


My Hero

by ereshai



Series: Various Prompt Fills [12]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Escape, Established Relationship, M/M, Meme, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint's circus days come in handy when he has to keep himself and Coulson from plunging to their deaths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Hero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [totalnerdatheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalnerdatheart/gifts).



> Written for a meme on tumblr - for the prompt 'Get Me' - one character saves another. Requested by totalnerdatheart.  
> It was supposed to be a drabble. Oops?

"The worst thing about supervillains," Clint tells the unconscious Coulson, "is the goddamn melodrama."

They’re dangling over a pit, strung up by their wrists. The whole setup is a complicated mass of ropes and pulleys, and, basically, they’re acting as counterweights for each other. It’s a ‘one of you gets free, the other plunges to his death’ kind of thing; exactly the kind of over-the-top stunt Clint should have expected from someone calling himself The Dilemma. 

"You know," Clint says as he pulls himself up to get a better view of his wrists, "a really effective bad guy would just shoot us and be done with it. None of this psychological torture before death crap." Clint studies the knots and snorts. "Our captor wasn’t a Boy Scout. I’ve seen better knots from kids who don’t know how to tie their shoes yet." He eases himself down again. His arms ache from the unnatural position and the weight of his body, but it’s not bad enough to affect him yet.

Coulson still hasn’t stirred. His head is lolling back, and there’s blood in his hair from a hidden scalp wound. At least it isn’t dripping anymore. Clint already has a half-formed plan, but it would work better if Coulson was awake. 

Clint flips himself up into a handstand position, and starts wrapping himself up in the rope until he’s sitting upright with his bound hands in front of him. It’s been a while since he worked the silks, and rope is a really terrible alternative, but he hasn’t lost his skill. He has the knots undone in no time. The makeshift harness takes a little longer, but finally, he’s hanging in midair with both hands free and a much better chance of pulling off this escape/rescue attempt.

He starts swinging toward Coulson, each arc of his body bringing him closer. The only sounds are the creak of the rope, the squeak of the pulleys, and Clint’s own harsh breaths. He grabs Coulson as soon as he’s close enough, and wraps his legs around Coulson’s waist. He uses the loose tail of rope he left hanging from his harness to tie Coulson to him. It isn’t ideal, but should work. He holds himself up with a hand on his own rope; he doesn’t want to put any more weight on Coulson than he already has.

"Phil? Phil? Wakey-wakey." 

Coulson’s eyes flutter open and he groans. “Barton. What?”

Clint grins at him. “Hi, honey.”

"Not while we’re working."

"I see that blow to the head hasn’t done any real damage."

Coulson looks around, taking in their situation. “Sit-rep.”

"Just hanging around," Clint says with a serious expression. "That didn’t do it for you? Really? Well, I’m working on our escape. We’re coming to the hard part now."

"What do you need me to do?"

And that right there is why Clint loves him. 

"We have to go up a few feet; we’re not quite in the right position. If you could just put your legs around my waist, that should make the climb a little easier." As he says this, Clint lowers his left leg, allowing Coulson to put his right leg around Clint’s waist. They repeat the process on the other side, and Clint absolutely does not think any inappropriate thoughts while their legs are tangled together and their crotches are rubbing against each other. He is a professional.

Clint reaches up, grabs the rope holding Coulson and pulls them both up. It takes some time, but eventually they get as high as Clint needs them to be. Carefully, Clint lets go with one hand and pulls a knife from a hidden sheath at his back.

"I’m going to…cut you…loose…we swing…then I…let go…and we…land on…that ledge…behind me," he huffs with the effort of holding them up one-handed. He can’t do it for long.

Coulson nods and holds the rope binding him taut for easier cutting. Clint’s knife is sharp, and he manages to cut through quickly. He lets the knife drop so he can grab the rope with both hands again, briefly mourning its loss; Natasha had given it to him. He takes a quick look behind himself to check their trajectory.

"Arms around my neck. Ready?"

Coulson nods, and Clint starts swinging. As soon as he judges the right moment, he lets go. They fall through the air at an angle. If Clint has misjudged…but he never misses. The rope is slack, but they have enough momentum; they crash on the ledge, Clint twisting them so he lands underneath Coulson. Thank god his uniform is reinforced.

They lay there, Clint gasping for breath, until finally Coulson lifts his head. 

"My hero," he says, batting his eyes.

Clint stares in disbelief, and then bursts out laughing, even though it hurts his ribs. Some of them are probably cracked. “The hero gets a thank-you kiss, you know.”

"Maybe once we’ve actually escaped. What’s next?"

"We kick this motherfucker’s ass, that’s what." Clint reaches up and pulls Coulson into a deep kiss. "For luck," he says with a wink. 


End file.
